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J.D. Drew is “probably” retiring, reports today indicate. Despite the mad flurry of Drew-hate peppering the nation over the past two years, I’ve never had a huge problem with you, J.D. I find your breakability irritating. I find your inconsistency mind-numbing (but attribute it to your breakability). But I remember the real you, J.D. I can still remember your home run pops and that cool indifferent reaction to your own badassishness. You’ll finish your career with a respectable 242 homers and my respect, sir.

You were very, very expensive. I mean. I don’t want to nitpick. But you were very. VERY. Expensive. I loved you in 2007. But I loved everyone in 2007 (mostly). I mean, you’re no Kevin Youkilis, J.D. Drew, but you can afford a Kevin Youkilis beard implant, if you want. I mean, you did average like, $8 million a year for 14 years. That’s even more impressive than those 242 homers. I hope you can use your retirement to… I don’t know… take vitamins or something.

But, in the words of Marc Antony, I come to honor you. Not pick you apart flaw by expensive flaw. But I think you need to retire. I think you need to retire. And up those fricking Flintstones because every time you break, angels cry.

Literally. Didn’t you… um… try? And then have absolutely no success? Because no other uniforms would take you? You really Posada-ed yourself with that temper tantrum over the summer, mate.

Our very own Jason Varitek (possibly the next name on the plaque in front of the old folks retirement home) even had a comment. But he’s old too. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

“After hundreds of head-to-head games during the regular season and the postseason, I can’t say I respect and admire anyone at our position more than I do Jorge. The hard work and preparation he put into catching is a huge reason he has five championships on his resume. He is a true grinder.”

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As for the Tek (we alllllll know my Tek obsession. I won’t give you a double dose)-

Seriously. You don’t have to vote for him. But he doesn’t have leprosy (that’s Ryan Braun). You can shake the guy’s hand, Tim. You’re “one of two Americans on the roster.” Your hand won’t fall off. I promise. I have shaken Obama’s hand four times now. And I still have all of my fingers.

Oh. And in news that should surprise no one- Jorge Posada. Retiring. Official. It’s happening tomorrow. I am devastated by this (really). Because I think my Posada verb was just catching on. And now it has no chance. Jorge Posada really Posada-ed me on this. Go Posada yourself, Jorge.

And in roll-your-eyes news. I read that Sox Judas, Johnny Damon “really” wants to play for the Yankees. Okay, America. Roll your eyes.

The rest of the internet is still up in arms about the Cheater’s absence saying it sabotaged All-Stars.

I’ve already said I think he’s a prick for not showing up. But I don’t think the guy is a sabotaging prick. I just think he’s an inconsiderate prick. And I think there are bigger problems afoot than a Jeter snub. Seriously. If the game is so lame (<-hah! a rhyme) that a few absent Yanks on the roster can do THIS to your ratings, there are a few more problems that need to be addressed.

Anywho.

That’s not Jeter-Gate.

THIS is Jeter-Gate.

Jeter-Gate is that kid we already talked about- the 23-year-old who caught the ball. I’m not the only one calling him a schmuck. As I first reported days ago… that schmuck may have to pay the IRS. THAT IS WHY YOU DON’T GIVE THINGS THAT ARE WORTH $250K TO BAZILLIONAIRES.

It’s sad, really. 3,000 hits? A great accomplishment. And there’s been more news about Jeter’s absence and Jeter’s ball (hah), etc, etc, etc. 23-year-old fan, part of that is your fault.

Everyone’s favorite turncoat Roger Clemens is back in the news! But it’s not for a weasley World Series victory. It’s not for a ring contest. Or even a who-has-the-veiniest-bicep competition… even though… um… that’s closer…

It’s for *drum roll please* LYING. Lying about juicing up in 1999, 2000.

And who turned him in? Who, oh who? Oh, that’s right. HIS BEST FRIEND. Andy Pettitte. Which seems to be the bigger story than Roger Clemens popping happy juice. HIS BEST FRIEND.

Roger, remember when I was your best friend? Remember that?

Yeah. Me neither.

It’s quite dramatic. All the major characters are there. The bastard best friend (Pettitte) the anxious butler turned gossip (Giambi). It’s like one of those mystery weekend novels by Agatha Christie.

You know what wasn’t very, very hard? Pettitte’s veins, apparently, since he ADMITTED to using the human growth hormone too.

I like how this article seems mostly about poor Pettitte and not about jerk Clemens who LIED.

Though he never spoke much in the clubhouse about his religious convictions, Pettitte became known among the Yankees for his strait-laced life. Some of his former teammates, including catcher Jorge Posada, said Pettitte’s best quality was that he could be trusted.

Really, Posada? It wasn’t truth juice.

YOU should know.

And they were just buddies, Pettitte and Clemens. Like Milo and Otis? Like Fox and the Hound? Not so much. More like Bonnie and Clyde. You know. Except, instead of cash, it was a substance that gives you man-boobs.

“It was strange if you didn’t see them together in the clubhouse,” said John Flaherty, a former Yankees catcher. “You’d see them running, lifting or throwing a football before games, then they’d play golf on off days. It was always Andy following Roger around.”

How’d that work out for you, champ?

“Andy was always prepared to handle the pressure, but in court, he is not in his comfort zone,” Joe Girardi said. “It’s out of his realm, and it’s out of our realm, too. None of us want to see that.”

Read further, and you’ll see law experts telling the reporter that Pettitte has absolutely no reason to tell the jury any of this.

“In 1999 or 2000, I had a conversation with Roger Clemens in which Roger told me that he had taken human growth hormone,” Pettitte said in the affidavit, a potentially pivotal declaration if spoken before a jury.

And yet he testifies anyway. This means two things about Andy Pathetic.

1. Maybe he and Clemens had a fight on the jungle gym

2. Maybe he actually has some integrity

I hope it’s number 2. I’d like to be able to say something nice about Andy Pettitte. I’ve been on this soap box before. You all know how I feel about the ‘roid years. You saw how I snipped Manny like a bad habit. IF Pettitte is really testifying for the integrity of baseball, I give him props.

Before today, whenever I thought of Pettitte, I thought of THIS MOMENT. You know the one. Where Jacoby steals home and Pettitte looks like he’s going to cry? I even remember where I was. It was that pivotal to 2009. I was in an Irish pub near work in Charlotte with my friend Doug and I choked on a nacho.

If Pettitte really does this, I’ll get to remember him for two things. And shame on the misplaced focus on Pettitte, who didn’t do anything wrong (THIS TIME) instead of the juicing rock slinger himself.

But the honesty bug, it doesn’t make up for the Yankee tolerance of juicing. You know it’s true. Just look at the Mitchell Report. Look at testimonials. Look at the team. There’s a tolerance. That’s the crux of my rivalry. Well, that and Johnny Damon.

Clemens insisted he had told Pettitte that his wife, Debbie, not Clemens himself, had used the drug. In his Congressional testimony, Clemens said Pettitte “misheard” and “misremembers” what Clemens had said about growth hormone.

Sure.

I think the law professor in the Times article sums this up nicely.

“So I think Clemens is in big trouble,” he added. “He probably wants to kick himself for picking the kid who was the Eagle Scout on the block to shoot off his mouth to.”

The trial begins today, and I’ll be paying attention.

~L

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So, I’ve been thinking… and I have a tip for the defense attorney, ’cause I’m so nice. Maybe you should ask potential juries if they are Red Sox fans…

CLICK HERE and scroll down FOR MORE STEROID NEWS. Jesus Christ. What is wrong with today?

We are hours away from holding the number one slot and wrapping it around Jorge Posada’s neck.

Wrapping it and wrapping it and wrapping it and…

Sorry. I’ve been writing about the North Carolina state budget all day.

Which means I need a win.

So Wake, get on that. Lots of things rhyme with Wake. Things like cake.

And cake is fantastic. Therefore, Wake will embark on a smacktastic Detroit smackdown.

I have been working on the budget. I am too tired for wit.

But not, apparently, to make up words. Like smacktastic. And timmerific.

I’m trying to decide whether to decorate my Tigers fan coworker’s desk with actual brooms or just pictures of brooms…

I really need to find someone to watch a game with. Who, you know, will actually wear the Red Sox hat. And, you know, will actually be okay with wearing the Red Sox hat. You know, wear it willingly. Proudly. Victoriously. Will maybe have his or her own Red Sox hat.